While many celebrate September 11th with memories of planes crashing and death surrounded by the blur of ashen dust enveloping our sense of security, I decided to change its meaning in my own life. It was seven years ago, today, when my husband and I stood with our friends and family before God and the love that kept us whole, vowing to be husband and wife for as long as life moved us.
I remember looking out and seeing my mother's prideful grin centered beneath her flowing tears and beside her sat her sisters, cheering us on. On the other side were Kevin's parents and my soon to be relatives, feeling similarly touched by our nuptials. It was pride that filled me that afternoon, as my people, Black, African combined with his Irish clan. My two young daughters held on to Kevin's every word as he promised himself to our family as husband and father. Our friends were of every race gathering from every part of our country and some came from as far as Japan and Nigeria.
Our friend Todd, stood with the grass between his toes as our minister as his words evoked a sense of normalcy on a day that so many had long seen as a day of mourning. So in love and relieved that not a thing had gone wrong in the plans, I finally took a sigh of relief when my husband placed his promise around my finger. Forever, we promised, as my tears were abundant and my sat heart full of a new meaning for the day.
When I awake on September 11th next year, I will say a prayer for everyone, from those children whose parents never came home, to those parents who never did and never will get to see their children stand before them and God and profess their love in this lifetime. And when my tears have cleared from mourning, I will turn over to my husband and thank him for choosing me to spend his life with on a day that for so many will be filled with something many of us will never truly understand.
I remember looking out and seeing my mother's prideful grin centered beneath her flowing tears and beside her sat her sisters, cheering us on. On the other side were Kevin's parents and my soon to be relatives, feeling similarly touched by our nuptials. It was pride that filled me that afternoon, as my people, Black, African combined with his Irish clan. My two young daughters held on to Kevin's every word as he promised himself to our family as husband and father. Our friends were of every race gathering from every part of our country and some came from as far as Japan and Nigeria.
Our friend Todd, stood with the grass between his toes as our minister as his words evoked a sense of normalcy on a day that so many had long seen as a day of mourning. So in love and relieved that not a thing had gone wrong in the plans, I finally took a sigh of relief when my husband placed his promise around my finger. Forever, we promised, as my tears were abundant and my sat heart full of a new meaning for the day.
When I awake on September 11th next year, I will say a prayer for everyone, from those children whose parents never came home, to those parents who never did and never will get to see their children stand before them and God and profess their love in this lifetime. And when my tears have cleared from mourning, I will turn over to my husband and thank him for choosing me to spend his life with on a day that for so many will be filled with something many of us will never truly understand.
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